Page 2 of When the Weaver Met the Gargoyle (Leafshire Cove Monsters #1)

Chapter 2

Romulus

L aini is even more beautiful close up. I haven’t had the chance to see the color of her eyes until today. They’re the shade of the wool she was toting—a blue like the autumn sky. From what my boss, Lord Mayor Rustion, told me, she is from the human side of the world beyond the Veil. But she must have some faerie blood hiding in her veins to have such striking eyes.

With her delicious scent of early roses and morning dew still in my nose, I climb the steps of the town watchtower. My body fights me, my stomach tightening, and my cock more alert than is convenient at the moment. Everything in me, except my brain, wants to run back to Laini, crush her to me, and show her exactly how I feel, but I breathe out and force myself to keep moving. I can’t have her, and that’s just the truth of it. I have to stop pining over her like a youngling in training, like I have been since I saw her seven days ago when I first came to Leafshire Cove. But I will never again get involved in a romance. I couldn’t handle repeating my horrible sin.

Blinking away the awful memories, I look out on the town. Standing guard at the town watchtower—a stone structure with a peaked, tiled roof and a small apartment—is both my job and my home here in Leafshire Cove.

I lean on the side of the tower’s western opening, eyeing Laini’s shop. The magical storm cleared almost as quickly as it began, but her shop/home is covered in rainbow sparkles, just like everything else in the vicinity. Thankfully, it was a tiny storm and didn’t seem to cause any serious damage. I brush sparkles off my cloak and shake more of the stuff from the toes of my boots. I slide my hood off, allowing my horns to show since I’m alone. Generally, I keep my cloak on because I don’t want to scare anyone with what hides on my back. Covered up like I am, no one will know exactly what type of gargoyle I am.

As the day wears on, another magical storm brews in the Southwest regions, the tumbling clouds growing closer.

I wish I could have warned everyone about the small storm that just happened, but it had come up too quickly. Honestly, I was distracted by Laini’s appearance. She doesn’t usually show herself until the market is empty, and I wanted to know why she was rushing along the street. Ever since I witnessed her pick up an injured dragonfox that had stumbled into the square a few days ago, I have wanted to know everything about her. Dragonfoxes are notoriously mischievous, and I can’t imagine it’s easy rehabilitating one in a shop full of flammable items. Most would have ignored the creature, but not Laini. I’d heard the talk as I did my nightly rounds after everyone was at home. The gossip that night was that Laini took the dragonfox to the town healer and that she’d toted it like a baby back to her shop afterward.

Laini would be attractive even if she wasn’t so pretty, but she is absolutely that—breathtaking in every scenario. Tired with her hair in a tangle. Excited and grinning from ear to ear when she sees her friends. Every shade of her is a masterpiece. She’s curvy; her eyes are so big…

Dark Mountain save me. I swallow and adjust my trousers. I have to stop thinking about her. She has barely spoken to me—quite clearly not interested. I must remain apart from everyone anyway. It’s the only way to prevent a repeat of what happened in the last town I lived in.

I shake my head in an attempt to clear away those memories. It had been a complete accident, but the guilt would never fade. Nor did I deserve to be relieved of it. I’m the type of monster folk rightly fear. I’m no cute faerie, interesting sprite, or delightfully quirky goblin. I’m a gargoyle—too large, too clawed, too everything.

The storm in the Southwest isn’t changing course. This one isn’t a simple cloudburst of sparkling magic that would do little, either. This storm looks to be the type that tosses smaller creatures into the air and snatches roofs. It’s time to alert the town.

I turn toward the heavy rope and begin to pull. The warning bell sounds above me, the sound melodious and low. After ten rings, I release the rope and watch as everyone throws their potions onto their roofs and pours protection dust around the base of their homes and shops. Humans, orcs, goblins, and faeries, too nervous to return to their homes, hurry toward the tavern a couple of streets over or head for the town hall. Maplecats are lifted from their sunny nap spots, their owners smoothing the animals’ leafy pelts in comforting movements as they take them inside. Merchants close up their carts of spiced meat pies, leather pouches, and cinnamon scones.

I nod, glad they’re heeding my warning. I must hide in this life, but I can still be a part of the community in this small way. Though they don’t know me, and I don’t allow them to see me in full, everyone in Leafshire Cove is my responsibility.

Well, except for that prick, Leo, Laini’s past suitor. That lion shifter can go to the afterlife at any moment and only improve the state of things. In fact, if Laini ever wants help with that scenario, I am game.

“Romulus!”

I peer over the edge of the tower’s open window to see Lord Mayor Rustion calling up to me. “Yes, my lord?”

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself too, good fellow! We don’t want to lose you. Also, you must get a date for my Harvest Party. It’s a magical requirement. All of the town’s employees must attend!” He waves and speeds away faster than an old shifter should be able to. They age like humans. It was odd that the mayor was as kind as he was while his son was such an awful creature.

Wait, what did he say? I needed a date for the Harvest Party? My body goes cold. I heard about the magical rules of the party; that’s why I wasn’t planning on attending. Well, that and I hate crowds.

I chew the inside of my cheek and fist my hands. I can’t date. I can’t possibly.

The wind stirs Rustion’s tawny hair as he jogs into the distance. Rustion took me in when I was at my lowest. He deserves my obedience.

All right. Only for Rustion. One night. One date. After that, I will never explore close relationships again. It won’t be a real date anyway.